Love at First Sound

My Dearest BB (Baby Boyette),

I am already so excited about your firsts. First smile, first steps, first words, first love—the list could go on and on.  The point is that your daddy and I already love you so very much.  When I first “saw” the happy news and shared it with Dan, whom you will grow to know as daddy, I knew that I would love you. However, I never knew how deep or how true that love could be until January 14, 2011. Buckle your emotional seatbelt, sweetie; for this story has laughter, tears, anxiety,  and teeth smiles (grins where you show your teeth, so we truly know you mean it) all rolled into one. 

Doctor’s visits can be very weird, and I dare say that girly doctor visits are the least bit comfortable; however, I have been through countless visits too numerous to count. Your daddy, on the contrary, has not been to a girly doctor, which I am thankful for, but after this visit, I can honestly say that he is a changed man, in more ways than one.  Since I had been so sick, I had to bring a snack inside the office, which I conveniently left in the car because I was so nervous. I did, however, manage to bring in my big, geeky purple clipboard, with the one million forms I had to complete prior to this visit. Needless to say, your dad had to go back out to the car to get my snack only to return inside to have to go right back outside to take back your mommy’s teacher clipboard. And you know what, BB?  He smiled the entire time, half laughing at my nervousness and half covering his will to be frustrated.  I really hope you get his easy-going demeanor and his ability to smile through the pain. 

When they call my name, we immediately go back, and I can tell that as we pass the bathroom, the scales, the blood draw station, and the numerous open rooms with girly visions a man should never see, your daddy is growing increasingly uncomfortable.  If when you read this, you are a mature young woman, you will understand why his nervousness makes me chuckle with the slightest bit of “see, it ain’t easy being a woman these days” sense of accomplishment.  If not, just ask your wife. 

As we wait for the doctor, I see your dad reading through all the baby information, and I, of course, am eating my second snack of the visit.  That’s another trait that I hope you inherit from your dad—his thirst for knowledge and eagerness to always know more.  Thankfully, the doctor leads us to the ultrasound room and assures me that this procedure won’t take long. He does, however, take that moment to tell me that 1 of 4 women receive the bad news that their baby has no heartbeat.  Suspended in time, I felt his words like a kick to my stomach, knocking all air from my lungs. Never once in this entire eight-week journey did I ever imagine that you would not have a heartbeat.  With a clinched jaw and eyes welled with tears, I entered the room and prepared myself to meet you for the first time.  Those are traits that I hope you get from me—determination through tears and emotions through grey. 

The nurse, the doctor, your dad, and I were glued to the screen.  As he searched around for you and we waited, each of us holding our breath, the doctor finally yelled out (and I do mean yelled), “We have a heartbeat!”  Like I am now, I was crying tears of pride and joy, while your daddy circled the room, puffed up like a proud rooster.  At one point, I swear he almost chest bumped the doctor.  I am sure at this point in your life, during a Bears or Pirate football game, your father has helped you perfect the art of chest bumping. And if you can imagine the best one you’ve ever seen him do, whether it was double overtime of a Tarheels’ game or the ninth inning of the Cubs in the World Series (this makes me laugh), his chest bump on this day, the day we first met you, was three times as good.  Finally, we heard your heartbeat, and immediately I knew the true of meaning of love.  BB, I tell you, with all the truth and honesty in my heart and soul, it was love at first sound. 


Love,
Mommy

It's a Sick Thing

Pizza used to make my mouth water. And, I totally mean in a get in my belly sort of way. Now, my mouth waters and stomach turns because I cannot stand the smell or taste of red sauce.  Also, I would like to address the guy, cause it had to be, who gave morning sickness its name. I mean really?  It lasts all day in my case, and if I am not eating crackers or drinking ginger ale, I have to be asleep because otherwise, I am not a nice person. 

In short, I know what my mother meant by because I said so. You see, any mother who has gone through any element of my past two weeks has the right to say so and also take you out of this world, cause she brought you in it.  And it is true.  Having a hangover without having had the fun the night before is miserable. Period. 

But, that is not even the sickest part of this whole mission of the first trimester.  It is sick how much I already love Baby Boyette. Although his/her heart hasn't yet begun to beat, I can still feel the connection between the two of us.  Baby B is the first thing on my mind in the morning (mainly because I am about to toss my cookies) and in my dreams each night as I think of his/her potential in this world.  I already feel less selfish and am excited to forgo pedicures and wardrobes if it means saving money for his/her college fund. 

Dan has been amazing; so much more amazing than I could be in his position. Could you imagine having a wife that once loved to eat and get out and exercise now become a lifeless ball of saltine eating, pizza despising pregnant woman?  His kindness and patience with my tears and mood swings reminds me that I am so lucky to have found him.  I am just now starting week eight and have been physically sick each day for the past two and half weeks. Although it has been a test in my patience, and I have cried more in the past few weeks than ever, I am comforted and saddened that it won't be like this for long. Time has already started to fly by.

Crazy Is as Crazy Does

Most people dub my crazy personality as charming.  They think I am funny and wistful, fun-loving and energetic. For me, I see crazy in obsession and reading, research and questioning.  I should make a wonderful mother!

At first, I thought I was imagining the faint pink line on the pregnancy test, but seven tests later, including another line test, three plus minus tests, and two yes or no tests, the results were in! As I talked with the OB nurse on the phone, she laughed away my obsessive character, shrugging it off to anxious mommyhood, that of someone who "couldn't wait" to be a mother.  She had it all wrong.  That is just how I am. I have to pee on seven plus sticks, call my husband at work three times, talk to my sister four times, and to my best friend twice to trust the news that I am pregnant. 

The books say the first step of this process is confused emotions of excitement and misgivings, ambivalence and joy.  I can say that all of these are true, but I thought they would come in waves, separately showing their faces, each different and distinctive.  For me, they come all at once, and they manifest themselves in fits of tears and swallowing, as if to fight back the varied emotions, none of which I can make an sense of, especially if I am in the middle of a conversation.  I have always been accustomed to being an emotional person, but this is so different.  For example, when we broke the news to our parents, Dan picked out the cutest onesies that read, "I've been good all year! Just ask Grandma!" Giving the gift to his parents was cinch. I only cried to and from their house, but no tear I could find as we sat among smiles and hugs. That all changed as we waited in the kitchen for my parents to come in; a house that I had grown up in now weighed heavy with the news of our gift of joy.  I cried as soon as I saw my mother and handed her the Christmas bag with shaking hands and a nervous smile.  They were both elated, and I laugh-cried when my Dad looked at Dan and said, "what have you done to my daughter?". 

The first three weeks have been an amazing whirlwhind of budgeting, avoiding sandwhich meat, talking of paint colors, and exchanging knowing smiles with the ones closest to us.  As we ring in the new year, at home toasting with beer for Dan and ginger ale for me, I can't help but wonder what awaits us in 2011.  The enormity of becoming a parent is lost on me. Yet, I can already feel that my life is changing forever. And, I kind of like it.